


Home can be a Person

by VeronicaLoganMars



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: 180 days, F/M, full on fluff, i just like writing about how much logan loves veronica, sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22099471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronicaLoganMars/pseuds/VeronicaLoganMars
Summary: Logan’s thoughts as he’s reunited with Veronica after those 180 days. Basically, a thousand words of Logan being unabashedly in love. Fluff on fluff.
Relationships: Logan Echolls & Veronica Mars, Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64





	Home can be a Person

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Logan and Veronica fic, drabble, whatever you might call it - I've been wanting to write one for so long, but the standard is so good that I've honestly been a little intimidated. Anyway, I thought I'd ease myself in, and start with a little mindless Logan's-feelings-ramble. Enjoy!

“Logan-“

The word was muffled by his lips before she could properly annunciate it, the ’n’ turning into a soft moan that vibrated down his throat as he anchored his hands in her hair, around her waist, across the gentle dip at the bottom of her back; he wasn’t all that aware of what he was doing with them, really, all that he was sure of was that he was touching Veronica again after six months, and that all the other technicalities could wait. 

His hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers weaving between the strands of muted gold that fell as she moved languidly in time with the motions of his kisses. She was warm, and soft, and his home, and he doubted how he ever found the strength to leave her on that bed one-hundred and eighty days ago. He inhaled deeply as his lips broke away from hers - but not really away, because that would imply space, and his lips were still whispering over hers, catching them gently with each breath that she took. Her lightly closed eyes and whisps of blonde lashes, which he noted from under his heavy lids, were a familiar sight to him. He had convinced himself that he was oblivious as to why he’d made it a habit of opening his eyes a little when they kissed, but really, he knew that he just wanted to watch her when she was most at peace. While some might think it was arrogant, to assume that she was most content when connected with him so intimately, Logan wasn’t one to throw his selectively heightened ego around without evidence to back it up; he knew what he was good at, he knew his strengths. Slowly, carefully - he _knew_ it had to be carefully - breaking down the emotional walls that Veronica Mars had built around herself was one of them. And if that’s all that he ever turned out to be good at, then that was more than ok with him. Right now, with her soft curves pressing into him and her breath across his lips, he couldn’t imagine caring about anything else.

She was wearing a dress - she barely ever worse dresses - he could tell by the feel of her bare leg as he smoothed his hand down over her ass, and then the top of her partly exposed thigh. A little more PDA than she usually approved of, but he didn’t think she’d mind, given the circumstances. She only ever worse dresses on special occasions... she’d considered coming to pick him up a special occasion? The thought made his heart do that little jumpy thing that only ever happened around Veronica, usually when she looked at him, or he looked at her, or, well, whenever he was in close proximity to her, really. Scratch that, it happened when he thought about her, too. Logan thumbed the bottom of the fabric as her eyes fluttered open, and her mouth broke out into one of those wide, dopey smiles that she’d only given him a handful of times in all the years that he’d known her. He loved that smile. And he loved her in dresses. He loved her in pants, too - in anything, really. He loved a lot of things about Veronica.

He even loved the parts that made him roll his eyes (like, when she would hop out of bed at 3am because she’d just had a dream about the case that she was working on, and it had sparked a new idea about a lead in her mind, and the phone call to the mistress of her client just _couldn’t_ _wait_ until the morning).

She loved what she did, she always had. And even though he worried about her when she was doing it, he was happy that she’d rediscovered it when she’d come back to Neptune. It gave her that twinkle in her eye, that rosy glow on her cheeks, the rush of adrenaline that made her call him at the end of the day, practically giddy as she detailed her latest case to him, and told him all about how she’d finally cracked it, and - wow, he was _in_ love with her.

But then, he’d known that since they were seventeen.

He would take a few 3am wake up calls if it meant he could spend every night with her tucked up against him, his arms wrapped around her tiny waist, his legs tangled with hers in a mess of warm, contented limbs.

Logan usually loved his job, too - he really did - but not right there, in that moment.

Then and there, standing with Veronica, his Veronica, in his arms ( _finally_ ), he couldn’t think of one good reason to ever leave her again, one good reason why he’d once again have to spend six months speaking to her through a screen rather than being able to hear the lilt of her voice in person, feel her body pressed up against his, feel her tongue as it swept against his bottom lip. _Oh, her tongue was sweeping across his bottom lip_.

“You okay there, Lieutenant?”

“God, I missed you,” His voice was gravelly, and deep, and desperate, more so than he intended, but the emotion of the last 180 days and their reunion and holding _her_ were seeping out of him, and he couldn’t control the shudder of his breath or the slight shaking of his fingers, so how was he supposed to control his voice? “I fucking missed you, so much, Veronica.” _And I love you_.

He heard her suck in a breath, but now _his_ eyes were closed, his mind focused solely on the feeling of her unbearably smooth skin under his fingertips.

“Let’s go,” She murmured, her thumb moving up to trace his jawline as his eyes opened lazily at her touch, her voice thick with need, or lust, or maybe desperation, too. “I need to _show_ you how much I’ve missed you, and I don’t think I can do it in public. Not legally, anyway."

That was all Logan needed to hear before he wove his fingers between hers, gently tugging on her arm as he strode toward the parking lot, leaving anything and anyone that wasn’t Veronica far behind him.


End file.
